Little Blue Book
by chezzababyx
Summary: "If someone hurt your friend, you would get even, right?" Olivia Ryan transfers to Westchester Academy for Junior year and meets the infamous A crowd. They're the first people who accept her for who she is; a pity, because now she has to destroy them. AU.
1. PROLOGUE

**Wow. **This is vintage.  
I never updated this story,  
because I wasn't sure what  
I wanted to say with it.

Now, I'm pretty sure I know...

* * *

_i ain't tellin' the truth no more,  
what's the use in it?_

The last day of Junior year was a glorious one. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm, golden glow over all that it touched. Claire Lyons stretched out on the grass of the Westchester Academy quad, her legs crossed at the knees and her shorts barely concealing miles of long, tanned leg. Beside her, Dylan Marvil applied yet another coat of Hawaiian Tropic SPF 60+ sunscreen to her arms.

"Dyl, I love you, but the scent of cherry soda is overpowering me right now. Could you lay off the sun block?"

Dylan glared at Claire, throwing the travel-sized bottle of sunscreen back into the large Dooney & Burke tote bag that lay open beside her. Some of its contents were spilling out, revealing swathes of angelic-looking thin white cotton blouses and denim shorts. "I'm sorry, Claire. We can't all be blonde beach-bunnies." She pulled on a chunk of flaming red hair. "And my ambition in life is not to look like a lobster."

Claire stuck her tongue out at her companion before pushing her Oliver Peoples sunglasses over her eyes. "Where's Massie?"

Dylan scanned the quad and nearby car park quickly, squinting slightly as the sunlight reflected off of the huge windows of the preppy-looking brick buildings and the paint jobs of the numerous expensive SUV's and sports cars. "Dunno. Her car's still here." Dylan's emerald eyes settled once more on the shiny black Escalade.

As she stared, a robin's egg blue Nissan Micra screamed to a stop in the next parking space. The door popped open and Kristen Gregory climbed from the driver's seat, pulling a large grey duffel bag with her. She waved and locked the car before striding over, bag slung over her shoulder, hands in her pockets, blonde hair flowing behind her.

"Is everyone enjoying their last day as a high school sophomore?" She called. Claire grinned and waved back.

Kristen crossed the quad and settled cross-legged next to Claire pulling a box of popsicles from her bag. "I thought these might be appreciated." She pulled an orange one from the box and un-wrapped it. "It's going to be the hottest summer yet."

"Ah-greed!"

Claire looked out at the busy quad. The students of Westchester had spread themselves out, all enjoying the sun. Girls were laying out on plush towels in short shorts and tank tops, enjoying the heat, while boys ran around kicking soccer balls, throwing Frisbee's, and kicking hacky-sacks. From behind her sunglasses, Claire ogled Cam Fisher.

She hadn't spoken to him since middle school, but he had grown both upwards and outwards into a perfect physical specimen – not too much muscle, and not too little. His hair was still shaggy, but he was no longer as ghostly pale as he had once been - he had developed the same tan that his elder brother, Harris, had, and it suited him to perfection. His personality was, evidently, exactly the same; on the grass nearby him lay a guitar case and an old, beat-up leather coat - both abandoned in favour of an impromptu soccer game on the quad. Girls hung about, admiring the 'talent', most concentrating on Westchester Academy's star players: Cam, and his blonde counterpart, Derrick Harrington.

Claire stared a moment more, ignoring Kristen and Dylan's excited banter about Massie's pool party that night – a party to celebrate the end of their second high school year and the start of summer. She didn't tune in until she heard the lull in the conversation. Looking back over, she noticed that Kristen had pulled two swimsuits from her bag and was now holding them aloft, looking expectantly at Claire as if asking for her opinion. Claire pushed her oversized sunglasses over her head and frowned for a moment, considering the black one-piece and the red polka-dotted bandeau bikini. "The bikini; your figure is too good to hide behind a one-piece, of course."

Kristen grinned and dropped them both. "I concur. I am definitely winning myself a summer fling tonight."

Claire lowered her glasses again and returned to her silent appreciation of Cam's shoulders, bared under the black sleeveless shirt he wore. After a moment, she nodded to the large wooden doors of the high school, now being pushed open. A sigh escaped her as she turned her head towards the sudden movement. "I spy with my little eye something that looks pissed off."

Massie Block paused in the doorway of Westchester Academy, scanning the quad and parking lot, her knuckles turning white as she clutched her Giuseppe Zanotti clutch tightly. Beside her, Alicia Rivera was muttering rapid-fire Spanish into her Blackberry. Massie pulled at her arm and marched her as gracefully as she could across the grass, trying not to get her whiter-than-white Haviana's unnecessarily dirty.

"_Somethat thing_ wrong?" Claire called, lifting her glasses once more.

Dylan Marvil shifted uncomfortably in her pretty pastel-pink Chanel baby-doll dress, noting that there was most definitely something wrong, and wondering if this meant the pool party was now cancelled. It was a shame, really - she'd spent hours trying to pick out the perfect kaftan to cover just enough, but not too much, with her mother's stylist's assistant. She'd hate to think that she'd wasted an entire evening on a now defunct ensemble.

Massie stood above them, refusing to sit down, trying not to project her voice even though it was barely more than a low hiss. "Has anyone seen Kori?"

"Kori?" Kristen paused. "Yeah, she was with Derrick at the mall when I went to get the popsicles. How come?"

Alicia hung up and settled onto the ground, pulling Massie down with her. "Miss Goldman said she needed Kori's locker cleaned immediately for cleaning - Kori's been MIA most of the week. She asked me and Massie to do it for her because she didn't have the time and said that if anyone asked, the cleaners had done it - something about invasion of privacy or _whatever_." Alicia and Massie exchanged glances and Alicia pulled a small, blue notebook from her bag, handing it to Claire. "We found this. Read it."

Claire raised her eyebrows but opened the book anyway; Kristen and Dylan moved to read it over her shoulder.

"Massie Block," Claire read aloud. "Lives at – " Claire paused and looked up at Massie. "It's an address book? Okay, so, it's a little old school but it's not _that_ weird..."

"Keep reading." Massie insisted.

Claire scanned the page, noting that Kori had included everything about Massie, down to the grades she had received for the last year and where she hoped to go to university.

"Massie's not the only one who's in there. We all are." Alicia took the book back and flipped to the halfway point before handing it back to Claire. "About halfway through, she starts listing things like... well, secrets. Secrets about us; the kinds of things that we wouldn't want other people to know."

Alicia looked pointedly at Dylan, who blushed and looked away. "Including that time Dylan was 'sick' last year; Claire's little rebellious stage; Kristen's cheating and... some stuff about Mass and me."

Claire felt the panic surging inside of her. "Does anyone else know?"

"She hasn't 'released' anything yet, but she's collected the information and that proves she's looking for power over us. It's possession with intent to deal, am I right?" Massie ignored the tears brimming in her eyes. "Why was she with Derrick? Does anyone know?"

"I didn't think anything of it!" Kristen looked at each of the faces around her. "I mean yeah, he didn't look too happy to be there but they said they were shopping for a goodbye present for Mr. Delarosa!"

"The only one who'll need a goodbye present is Geddman." Massie paused for a moment, the gears in her brain ticking over, trying to figure out some damage control. But that little devil on her shoulder was presenting a more convincing argument. _Screw damage control; get rid of the book, and get rid of Geddman. Destroy her reputation and remind her that _you _have the power; _you _are in control! _"Dylan, get on the phone with Derrick." She hissed. "I want you to find out if Geddman's done anything – _anything! _If she moved to hold his _hand_, I want to know."

"Derrick wouldn't – " Dylan began, jumping to Massie's boyfriend's defence. True, Derrick had hurt Massie in the past, but that was middle school. They'd come to an understanding, hadn't they?

"True, Derrick wouldn't. But Kori Geddman has proven to be the epitome of a loose cannon. Do you trust _her_?" Massie's amber eyes flashed. "Get on the phone, Dyl."

Dylan nodded; pulling her phone from her pocket and sliding it open with numb fingers. She pressed 1 on her speed-dial and the phone began to ring Derrick's number. She prayed he would pick up.

Massie turned to the next person on her list. "Kristen, I need you to find your mother." As Principal of the school, Kristen's mom had more power than any other parent at Westchester Academy. "I want Kori Geddman gone from this school. I want you to tell your mother she's stalking us. Understood?"

Kristen nodded and stood, brushing the grass from the seat of her shorts. "What if she won't expel her?"

"Be convincing."

Kristen nodded once more before turning and jogging across the quad. Within moments, she had disappeared through the heavy wooden doors. Massie watched with the pride of a leader whose plan was coming together perfectly, before turning on Claire.

"Claire, you were the one who introduced Kori to the group."

Claire felt the butterflies in her stomach worsen and she nodded, acknowledging the inevitable. "I know."

"How did you meet her?"

"When they had that big party after my dad's promotion – remember?" Massie nodded. "She was there. Her dad works for our dad's."

Massie absorbed the new information carefully before taking out her iPhone. "I want you to call your PR agent in LA and ask her how Kori could have possibly found out about last year."

Claire stood, tears in her blue eyes, pulling down the hem of her mint green polo. "I left my phone in the dash of my car. I'll be right back."

Massie nodded, feeling terrible for laying the guilt on Claire; it wasn't her fault. Massie had known Kori was bad news as soon as she'd met her but had let her stay a part of the group regardless. With her long, light brown hair and classic features, not to mention her seemingly bright personality, Kori had fit in.

Alicia sniffed beside Massie. "No one can find out about last year, Massie." Alicia looked pleadingly at her best friend. "I would be ruined; no one would ever want me again."

"I know." Massie slung her arm around the girl beside her affectionately, doing the best job of comforting her she could before pulling her into an awkward hug. "Call your Dad. We want a restraining order on Geddman; I'm doing damage control."

"Damage control?"

Massie waved her hand in dismissal and took the blue book from Alicia's hands, flipping through the pages and examining each, pulling out any that contained information she didn't want getting out and scrunching them up before placing them in her clutch. "I need something to keep the tiki torches going."

Later that night she would convince her father that Kori's father should be transferred to another branch of the business – say, the one in Boston. Massie listened in on Alicia's conversation with one ear.

"Dad? I need a little bit of help."

* * *

Lyrics from:  
_"(Ain't) Telling The Truth", _Bluejuice  
used with thanks.

I do not own The Clique,  
and these characters are not on my  
conception. I only claim a hand  
in the creation of the plot.


	2. SUMMARY

**Little Blue Book**

_sometimes revenge  
isn't as sweet as  
it seems..._

Olivia Ryan drifted through life with her nose in a book, convinced that good things couldn't possibly happen to her in "real life". The few friends she had would come and go, most put off by her bookish nature and reserved personality. None, it seemed, could last very long – none, that is, until the mysterious and beautiful Kori Geddman (a transfer from a wealthy New York Ivy) crossed paths with her at a Consolidation Holding Corp. company party.

The purpose of the party? To celebrate Donald Ryan's promotion/transfer to the Westchester, NY branch and the arrival of Eric Geddman from Accounts.

The two were quick to bond, becoming unlikely friends – particularly since Olivia would be moving to Westchester in a matter of months. It was almost eerie, Kori insisted, that they were complete opposites, and yet, somehow, best friends; strange, she said, that they could understand each other so completely. Olivia couldn't help but agree. For the delightful, popular Kori Geddman to like her - find her funny; want to be her best friend - was strange and unreal. It was like something straight out of an Austen novel (or, at least, the modern equivalent of an Austen novel...).

It was only when Kori began to tell Olivia about the selfish, bitchy girls at Westchester Academy – the same girls who had bullied her, tormented her, and harassed her until she was forced to leave the school and move back to her mother's hometown with her displaced family - that Olivia realised how sad and lonely Kori truly was, and she'd felt awful – how could teenage girls be so horribly cruel?

She'd felt so bad in fact, that she'd been unable to deny Kori her revenge and offered her help. After all:

"If someone hurt your friend, you'd get back at the bitches who did it – wouldn't you?" Kori had asked her, eyeing her with puppy dog eyes and an expression of such irreverent hope that she just couldn't say 'no'...

* * *

A basic summary of what's to  
come in the story, in case some of  
you find the concept confusing -  
please, bear with me! I promise  
that it will get easier to understand  
as the narrative goes on!


	3. THE UNDERCOVER AGENT

_scars will heal soon  
you shrug it off  
except that you don't_

* * *

Olivia Ryan watched the parade of pretty girls and handsome boys that passed through the hallways of Westchester Academy. She felt awkward enough to begin with, sitting on her own on the hard wooden bench next to the trophy case, but when one of the boys gave her an appreciative glance and a nod of acknowledgement, she felt bemused; as if she had magically been transported into another girl's body. Of course, she hadn't been. The body was all hers - she wasn't accustomed to the new additions that had been made. For example, she had never worn makeup to school before, and now she was acutely aware that the only thing stopping her from breaking into a sweat was the MAC Studio-Fix she'd applied that morning. Nor had she ever worn heels to school, she thought, with a glance down at her feet.

"Olivia Ryan?"

Olivia glanced up at the Principal's secretary, arranging her features into her most winning grin. The secretary smiled back. "Mrs. Gregory will see you now."

"Thank you." Olivia stood, hooking her handbag over her shoulder and following the older woman through the glass-panelled door and into Mrs. Gregory's rich, almost masculine office. A large window overlooked the quad and the award-winning gardens of Westchester Academy, but this didn't hold Olivia's interest for long. Instead, her eyes skimmed appreciatively over the leather-bound books that took up the wall behind the desk as she settled into her seat. They were expensive, surely. Olivia's bright blue eyes skimmed gold, embossed titles wistfully - Chaucer, Shakespeare, and a first-edition Maupassant.

Mrs. Gregory caught her line of sight and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh yes. That. A marvellous gift from a would-be parent; quite a new addition."

"But perhaps not a new edition," Olivia joked weakly. "It seems your job has many perks. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous."

Mrs. Gregory sorted through a few papers on her desk before glancing up at the new student, taking in her appearance. She had perfect, classic features and a tall, toned body. She reminded her of her daughter, but for the air of seriousness she carried. For all Kristen's over-achievement throughout life, she had maintained an immaturity that she couldn't seem to grow out of - the kind of immaturity that would gnaw at an overbearing, perfectionist mother. "Now, Olivia. What is it you hope to gain from your time at Westchester Academy?"

Olivia paused, considering her answer. "For the last ten years, my life has revolved around academics. I would prefer to start focusing on the other things I've missed; friendship, fun..."

Mrs. Gregory smiled, encouraged by her answer. "You'll find all of our students are very friendly."

In secret, she was more focused on the fact that this new student didn't intend to be competition for her daughter, Kristen.

"Yes, I hope so." Olivia smiled meagrely.

Mrs. Gregory leaned towards Olivia, her face contorted into an expression of great serious, but a wisp of hair falling from her severe dirty blond bun detracted from the put-together image. "I've arranged a student buddy for you; she'll escort you around the school and be your first friend at Westchester; her class list is exactly the same as yours, so you should face no problems." She smiled kindly, but the smile did not reach her eyes. "I think you two will get along."

Olivia shuffled awkwardly in her chair, hearing her Samsung vibrating from somewhere deep in her bag. "I hope so."

There was a rhythmic knocking from the door, and before Mrs. Gregory could call out an 'enter', a tall and athletic-looking blonde had pushed the heavy dark wooden door open and practically skipped into the room, taking a seat in one of the navy arm chairs situated before the desk. "Mother."

"Kristen," her mother replied, her tone reproving. "What have I told you about bursting in here without waiting for a reply?"

"You did call me to your office, mother." Kristen held up a slip of paper covered in controlled cursive. "I offer Exhibit A."

Olivia shuffled awkwardly. She hadn't realised that she would be meeting a member of Westchester's infamous A-group so soon.

Kristen glanced over, having noticed the movement. After a slow, assessing look at the fresh meat, she smiled. "Hey. You must be Olivia. I'm Kristen."

Olivia grimaced. "Yes, I'm Olivia. It's nice to meet you."

Kristen smiled. "So I'll be your buddy for the week. Speaking of which, I'm missing homeroom, Mom, so I haven't got my timetable."

Mrs. Gregory cleared her throat and glanced meaningfully at the piece of paper on the desk before Kristen. Kristen took it and scanned it carefully and deliberately.

"Your schedule is in your information package, Olivia, as well as a map to the school."

Olivia nodded in acknowledgement and leaned over her bag, sorting through its contents until she came to the richly-made, silky white envelope that bore the Westchester Academy crest and motto. _Victoria per perseverantia dedication quod terminatio: _victory through perseverance, dedication and determination. Olivia certainly hoped those three things were the keys to success; she knew for a fact she had them in spades. Particularly dedication - dedication to the cause of her best friend Kori. She scanned her class list considerably quicker than Kristen, noting that she was taking all the electives she had picked.

"I took the liberty of signing you up for our track and tennis teams," the Principal announced, handing her a slip of paper. "I would think that one as talented as you are wouldn't mind at all?"

"No, not at all." Smiling tightly, Olivia sipped the paper into the folder and deposited it back into her bag. "In fact, I'm grateful that you did." _Lie._

"Wow, you're so polished." Kristen grinned, glancing at her mother. "Imagine if I spoke like that all the time."

"Yes, imagine if you did." Mrs. Gregory eyed her daughter meaningfully and Olivia felt the room's temperature drop. So, the Principal was an ice queen who took bribes from parents. Surely she was very good at what she did to still be running one of the best schools in the country?

Kristen merely smiled cheekily at her mother. "I do, however, believe that I am now late – _we_ are now late – " she glanced at Olivia " – for our first class."

"Indeed. Be gone with you."

Kristen stood, and Olivia noticed her outfit for the first time, suddenly feeling over-dressed despite the fact that she wore only a floating white knee-length dress, vintage grey blazer, and maroon suede YSL Tribute's.

Kristen, of course, was the epitome of cool-casual in tight jeans, a marl-grey shirt, gladiator sandals and a leather jacket. Kristen, too, had been looking her new companion over, noting the girl's style. Kristen was certain Alicia would approve - the newbie practically screamed Ralph Lauren. "Well, let's go then."

She led her back from the office into the now-deserted hallway, turning left. "Do you need anything from your locker?"

Olivia nodded gently. "I left my textbooks there."

"I don't blame you. We're taking the same subjects, right?"

"Right."

"Yeah, the textbooks are ridiculous. There's like, ten of them."

They made small chat as they paced the halls and Olivia wondered if Kristen knew where she was going, but soon enough the two stopped before her locker. Olivia pulled her key from her pocket and opened the locker, pulling her textbook and binder out from their positions (she had organized the locker according to the Dewy Decimal system earlier that morning). Kristen grinned, noting her key ring.

"Oh, look, the Eiffel Tower! How cute is that?"

Olivia smiled, hoping Kristen wasn't being patronizing but realizing she probably was being so. "Thank you."

"So you've been to France?"

"Two years ago. My mother is French."

Kristen narrowed her eyes, taking in Olivia's pale European coloring - blonde hair, practically translucent skin, and deep navy blue eyes - like a Marc Jacobs model. "Did you love it?"

"It was wonderful."

When Olivia didn't say anything more, Kristen figured not to push the point. Moments later, she and Olivia slipped into their first class. As Olivia settled into her seat, she tried to ignore the curious glances of those around her. _Who was this new girl? Where had she come from? How had she earned the companionship of one of Westchester's key players this early in the game? _they seemed to ask. Some looked on with mild intrigue; others, with quiet indignation that she had been chosen to accompany Kristen Gregory, and not they.

_Luck_, she thought, grinning quietly to herself.

She snuck her phone out of her bag as surreptitiously as she could, praying that no one would notice, but the lecture hall was reasonably dark and the teacher was playing a documentary about the conflict in the Middle East. Holding the phone beneath her desk set her nerves alight - she'd never, ever checked her phone during class before - Olivia waited until the teacher was distracted by the projection screen, before she risked a cursory glance at the display; it glowed with an alert - the text she had received earlier in Mrs. Gregory's office but hadn't yet read.

**Kori: what news? have you seen them yet?**

Olivia typed back quickly.

**Olivia:** **Kristen is my buddy for the week. **

**Kori: you're in. text me details and i'll call you later. xo**

* * *

Lyrics from:  
_"Alice Practice",_ Crystal Castles  
used with thanks.

x


	4. RECEPTION

_so i tell myself that i'll be strong,  
dreaming when they're gone  
'cause they're calling, calling, calling me home  
__you show the lights that stop me_

The day became a stressful blur for Olivia, filled with nothing but AP classes and whispers in the hallways as she and Kristen trekked from class to class. She'd thought that changing schools would be easy – after all, she'd topped all of her classes back home – but she'd never even _heard_ half of the theories presented in her Physics class, and her interpretation of _Evening Alone in the Bunyah's_ in English Literature had been shot down as being "stilted, obvious, and vague".

For the first time in her life, Olivia was relieved to hear the Lunch bell ring, and couldn't work fast enough to escape. Kristen noted her determination to leave – not that she blamed her, Professor Davidson had been _way_ harsh – and fixed her with a sympathetic look. "Don't worry," she said, leading her out into the hallway.

Olivia had expected to be crushed by an onslaught of students, but they moved out of Kristen's way as she walked, clearing a path – it was almost as if Kristen were Moses himself, parting the Red Sea.

Kristen continued, oblivious to the miracle happening all around her. "Davidson has, like, a superiority complex. She's like that with everyone."

"She wasn't like that with you," Olivia pointed out, without even pausing to think about it. She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth, and Kristen's encouraging smile faltered before setting into a grim line.

"Yeah," she muttered darkly, "because my mom's El Presidente."

Olivia couldn't think of an appropriate response and so, followed quietly throughout the labyrinth of corridors, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the students or teachers she passed. She could see the judgement in their eyes – see it in the set of their faces. Each one of them was wondering who she was; where did she come from? and why was Kristen wasting her time on a _new _kid?

"**Good morning, Werewolves, and welcome back to another exciting year at Westchester Academy."**

The noise in the hall quietened.

"You're hot!" someone called, and there was the sound of scattered laughter – as if this was a joke that had once been funny, but been overused and become stale. Olivia's suspicion was confirmed when Kristen rolled her eyes. She paused, crossing to a locker that was covered in graffiti, magnets and stickers – one of the few that was in this section of the hall – and began to fiddle with the lock as the P.A. system boomed out a musical, lilting voice.

"**Here's hoping this is a year to be remembered – for all the **_**right**_** reasons. Today's top story is, of course, the new students' debut; the date has been set, and it looks like some of you will need to hustle if you want to have a gown in time – the ball is **_**next weekend.**_** Little tip to all of the fresh meat: don't wear red. That's my thing. **If you're interested in a spot on the planning committee – **"**

"That's Alicia," Kristen explained, throwing her books into her locker with little care or consideration. "She does announcements around this time every day – like an unofficial school anchorwoman, or something. You'll meet her later. Don't worry," she added, glancing over her shoulder and noticing how red Olivia's cheeks were.

_Kristen was big on telling people not to worry,_ Olivia noted, chewing her lip in her nervousness. _Only thing was, she _was _worried. Incredibly worried. _

"Don't worry, she's totally cool. You don't have to worry about a thing, so long as you stay away from Josh."

"Josh?" Olivia ran through her mental list of Westchester Academy's A-list (as provided by a very _thorough_ Kori Geddman), but couldn't remember any mention of a 'Josh'.

"Josh Hotz." Kristen explained, slamming her locker shut and stepping back into the fray. Olivia followed obediently, hastening her step as much as she could in her ridiculously high heels in order to keep up. "Josh was asked to leave the school about... God, two years ago... He was going to some all-boys school in the city, until he got sick of it."

Olivia's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Didn't he get kicked out?"

"Asked to leave," Kristen emphasized. "If you're wondering why he's back, you need only look out the window," Kristen said, pointing to one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows interspersed amongst the lockers.

Olivia glanced toward the nearest – a construction site lay beyond, some distance from the school's main building.

"The Gregory Institute of Scientific Endeavour," Kristen intoned, rolling her eyes. "Kindly paid for by the Hotz family of Westchester, New York..."

Olivia's jaw dropped at she eyed the building. The main foundation had been laid, and a number of sandstone walls had been erected already. Though only the shell of a building, it was already easy to see that it would be a remarkable addition to the school.

It was obvious that the elder of the Gregory women was easy to bribe, but Olivia hadn't truly understood how grand that scale was until this moment. "_Wow_."

"I take it you noticed the books in her personal library, too?" Kristen began walking again. She waited for Olivia's nod before she continued. "Kimber Altoona. Sophomore... Someone from the Art faculty caught her having sex with her boyfriend in the girl's bathrooms. Lucky for her, it all coincided with a literature auction at Sotheby's that my mother was _particularly _interested in."

With a huff and a slight flounce in her step, Kristen turned a sharp left. She sauntered through the cafeteria doorway with Olivia on her heels and joined the end of the queue.

An awkward silence fell over the pair. Olivia turned her attentions to shoving her books into her ridiculously large, slouchy handbag (primarily because no one else in the entire room seemed to be holding a book). Kristen turned to a nearby stainless steel counter to check her reflection.

"So, you're like, some genius." She muttered, patting gently under her eye with a turquoise-painted finger.

Olivia blanched. "No," she protested, shaking her head. "I mean – I – "

"Don't even worry about it," Kristen laughed, shaking her head. "I get it. It's not cool to be literate anymore, let alone smart. It's whatever."

Before they could fall back into their silence, Olivia tried to explain. "It's not that," she sighed, looking away. "I don't seem to be doing very well in any of my classes here. Not that I mind – I mean, I didn't want school to rule my life anymore but – "

"At the same time, you've always measured yourself by your academic superiority?" Kristen finished. She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah. Been there, done that."

* * *

Alicia Rivera cackled - a cackle worth of Kristen Gregory, in fact - watching Kristen's stilted interactions with the newbie from across the cafeteria. "I can't believe Kristen got buddy duty."

She'd rushed (well, achieved a brisk walk, at best) across the school as soon as she had finished her announcements and now sat at the usual table. Of course, she'd had to forgo food in order to beat Kristen and her 'buddy', but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Only two others were already sitting at the table – Claire Lyons, the perennial It girl, and Dylan Marvil.

Claire glanced up from her Blackberry, her pale blue eyes falling upon the unlikely pair. "She looks nice," she said.

"She looks like she just came from a YSL photo shoot," Dylan added, tilting her head to one side. Luxurious red waves fell over her shoulder, framing her baby face. "I love those shoes."

A disenchanted scoff escaped Alicia – of course she would be stuck with these two when the new girl arrived. It wasn't that they were 'nice' girls – Alicia had yet to see any evidence of them being 'nice' to anyone. They were both so wrapped up in their own little worlds, that it never occurred to either of them to be cruel to anyone. "I think I saw those in last month's _Elle_."

"Maybe," Dylan murmured. "They're pretty classic..." She trailed off, noticing as Derrick Harrington entered through the cafeteria doors.

_I shouldn't be looking,_ she thought to herself, watching as he crossed to the queue of people and joined Kristen and the newbie in conversation. _I shouldn't be looking, _she repeated as Derrick eyed Kristen's companion with open appreciation. _He's Massie's... hands off, private property, I shouldn't be looking..._

"Mass is going to shit Frisbee's," Alicia remarked; her eyes trained on Derrick as well, watching him flirt with Kristen's newcomer.

Claire sighed, tossing her Blackberry onto the table with reckless disregard for the technology. Her agent was hounding her about some pilot script he'd sent her – something about five young girls moving to L.A. to follow their dream of becoming an international pop group – and apparently, was unable to recall the meaning of the words _not interested_.

"Derrick and Massie aren't dating anymore," Claire pointed out. "Massie should get over it."

She realised the irony in her words as soon as she'd said them. _Get over it?_

Massie Block didn't 'get over' anything.

* * *

Lyrics from:  
"_Lights",_ by Ellie Goulding  
used with thanks.


	5. THE ONLY WAY FORWARD IS BACK

**KORI: you didnt text me back. everything ok? x**

Olivia ran a hand through her straight, platinum blonde hair and sighed; her phone had been buzzing every hour, on the hour, since she'd gotten home from school that evening and collapsed on her bed amongst the sea of packing boxes with her math homework and a bowl of pineapple slices.

She'd been pointedly ignoring the texts – after all, she needed to at least be _passing_ this year if she wanted to get into Harvard – but it seemed that Olivia's determined resilience was no match for Kori's irritating persistence.

**Everything is fine, **she texted back slowly – she'd never really had any reason to text people before and her fingers clicked idly at the keys, inhibited further by her desperation not to ruin her manicure. **Had heaps of homework, almost finished now. **

Olivia looked to her left at the teetering pile of 'completed' homework. She'd done... satisfactorily on most of the pile. At the very least, she'd done enough to consider her studies done for the day.

The phone rang shrilly, causing Olivia to jump. "It's for me," she called out to her mother, clawing at the bed sheets and finally closing her hand around the sleek Bang & Olufsen phone that had thrown aside hours ago, carelessly.

"Don't talk for too long, _chéri - avez-vous fini vos devoirs_?" The elder Mrs. Antoinette Ryan called from somewhere downstairs in a voice that rung loud and clear, like church bells peeling through the early morning silence.

"_Oui maman, je suis fait_," Olivia lied, French falling from her lips effortlessly. "_Est-père_ – "

"_Votre père est encore au travail_. We'll talk later. Answer the phone."

Olivia sighed dejectedly. Her mother didn't seem to mind the extra hours Donald Ryan was working; perhaps, in her fickle mother's mind, the large faux chateau here in Westchester's very best neighbourhood and brand spankin' new Aspen ski chalet more than made up for her husband's absence?

Everything her mother had ever dreamt of – this _place_, the designer bags, the exclusive and almost vulgar possessions and club memberships that marked her as part of the upper crust on sight – was in reach. It wasn't that Olivia's mother was shallow_... _It was that she was calculating and ruthless. As much as Olivia loved her mother, she couldn't deny these facts.

"Hello?" Olivia sighed tentatively.

"Olivia! What took you so long?"

"Hi, Kori. I texted you – I had a lot of homework and – "

"No!" Kori hissed, as if she was talking to a puppy that just wouldn't _learn_. "I don't care that I had to wait hours and _hours _for you to get in contact with me, Olivi-_uh_. I'm not _petty_."

_Could have fooled me, _Olivia thought before chastising herself. Kori was her friend; she'd done nothing but try to help Olivia, maybe even trust Olivia – no mean feat considering the torture she'd endured at the hands of girls like Claire and Massie – and now Olivia was being... well, there was only one word for it. _Petty._

Kori continued on, her voice shrill in her irritation. "What I meant was, why did it take you so long to answer?"

"Oh!" Olivia glanced about her room, struggling for a suitable answer. "I... I couldn't find the phone..."

"Well, make sure you put it somewhere easy to find next time! We're going to need to stay in contact throughout this mission; it's crucial that I know every little detail about what's going on! Now; tell me about your day!"

Olivia proceeded to recount her day in excruciating detail. After a particularly tense lunch hour, during which she'd been treated to the silent treatment by Kristen and her friends, she'd had a track meeting. Thankfully, Kristen's silence had been broken and she spent much of their warm-up lap chatting cheerily with her new companion.

"So they said _nothing_?" Kori sighed.

"Nothing."

"Then you're doing something wrong."

* * *

Massie's eyes were trained on the images before her, illuminated brightly on the screen of her MAC. These were images that she hadn't looked at since that awful, _awful _day last year. She'd meant to delete them from her hard drive; she'd wanted, so thoroughly, to delete the memories of last year from her life. After all, wasn't that the only way to move on with her life? But she'd been too weak. She chided herself as she began to tear up, seeing the happy faces reflected back at her.

No, the images weren't on her computer anymore _per se. _She'd saved them all to an external hard drive marked '2009' and then banished them to the deepest, darkest depths of her closet – back in the section that hid her Burberry scarves, her rainbow-colored Louis Vuitton purses, and her crimper. These were the things that she found too painful to look at. They were evidence that once, a different Massie had lived in this room and used this computer, and messed around with her friends never realising how crucial it was to be self-aware, _always._

The photos of Massie and Derrick's on-and-off relationship were the hardest to look at. There they were, rendering in near-perfect quality, as if she could reach out and touch those smiling faces. Massie and Dereck kissing, hugging, smiling widely on the beach as they frolicked in the waves... Massie and Dereck on Massie's birthday, dancing under a spotlight in a rented New York club as her friends and family looked on with envy and admiration. More than this, there were pictures of Massie and Derek in the most mundane of situations, but each one was sentimental; a cherished memory that would never be repeated.

Not after all that had happened.

Then, there were the photos that had Kori in them.

The group of them, each so different but so comfortable in their skin; they smiled toothily at the camera and slung their tanned arms around each other, blissfully unaware of the future events that would come between them. Kori didn't look like a crazy bitch in any one of the photos - at least not to Massie's eye. Massie, Kori and Claire in Aspen, dressed in their ski suits. Their smiles were wide and their faces makeup free - for the first time, Massie noticed the slight smattering of freckles that peppered Kori's face. Then, the last... the one that hurt the most. Kori and Derrick. Kori sat in Derrick's lap, whispering something in his ear. Derrick's face was one of utmost concentration. Dylan sat behind them, playfully licking cake from her lips; it was her birthday, and she had been so excited to share it with all of her best friends and the entire nation on her mother's broadcast. She'd even eaten cake, for the first time in four years, at Kori's request.

"You're too skinny," Kori had said solemnly, but by then she'd been fully aware of Dylan's sketchy past with food. "You have to eat some cake. Trust me, this cake is amazing - and the baker's probably watching right now! Wouldn't you be _so _offended if you'd baked such a beautiful cake and then the birthday girl wouldn't even have a piece?"

Dylan had had three pieces and enjoyed them thoroughly. She'd even let Derrick feed her one of them, though her cheeks were red in that picture, and he'd let her kiss him (on the cheek, mind) when she'd cut straight to the bottom.

Where had the warning signs been?

Kori had never seemed like the horrible person she'd become. Had Massie done something? Said something? Turned her against the group in some small way?

Massie had told Kori her innermost secrets.

Massie Block had let her guard down; she'd trusted an outsider and she'd paid the price.

It was not to happen again.

She clicked once more on her Facebook friend requests and eyed Olivia Ryan's warily. Her profile was acceptable, her photos undeniably and heartbreakingly gorgeous...

"Add her," Massie grinned to herself, "and let her know what she's missing out on."

She issued the decree to each of her servants via inbox and settled back to watch _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. _She couldn't help but notice that Benjamin Barry was remarkably like Derrick - down to the boyish charm and the motorcycle.


	6. THE PROPOSAL

A big thank you to **Cela Fille, Lucy **and **LivexLovexShotgun**, who have left very heart-warming reviews! Trust me when I say there's a lot of planning involved in this story and a lot of loose ends that will need to be tied up, but I'm proud to say:

_(1). You will see more of Massie as her character really comes into play,  
__(2). You will find out about what happened to the notebook,  
__(3). You will find out more about Kori._

_But I can't tell you anything more at this current moment. __This chapter may feel like filler - trust me, I felt that it came off that way as I was writing it - but it's very important in the grand scheme of things._

_xxo, Cheryl_

* * *

_If _Massie Block had a bad habit – and she wasn't yet willing to concede she _did_ – it would be her obsession with her own reflection. As she walked Westchester Academy's halls, she kept catching sight of her own image in a window or mirror and would become entranced.

_I look good,_ she thought to herself as she strutted on ridiculously high and just-plain-ridiculous designer clogs. _I look – what's that word Kristen uses? Beguiling! I, Massie Block, am beguiling. _The heels clacked loudly; ominously; parting the crowd before her.

_Make way for Massie Block! _

Olivia would never admit it, but Massie reminded her of an elegant race horse – limber, tawny, and with a ridiculously shiny coat – that was wearing its blinkers. She couldn't see anything but the path straight ahead of her.

Claire Lyons walked beside Massie, eyes glued to her Blackberry once more. Olivia frowned at Claire's... ignorance. _Can't she feel the eyes on her?_ _Does anything make her nervous? _Although after two hit movies and a string of successful TV mini-series under her expensive Moschino belt, perhaps she no longer felt the world's attention on her? Maybe she was just _that _oblivious?

If Massie was a race horse, Claire was a ditzy show pony with a long, luscious mane; groomed to within an inch of her life but not really fit to _do _anything.

"New girl!" Massie barked, pausing before Olivia.

Olivia took an instinctive step back, almost pressing herself up against her locker; she clutched her books to her chest a fraction tighter and mentally prepared for her first Westchester public embarrassment. _Massie meant me right?_ she asked herself, her breath hitching in sudden panic. _Oh God, I hope she meant me. It would be so embarrassing if_ –

"Yes, I meant you." Massie smiled, a little too saccharine for comfort. It was as if she could read Olivia's thoughts. "Well don't worry; I'm not going to bite..."

"Oh! No, I didn't – "

Massie's eyes travelled slowly up and down Olivia's tall frame, effectively silencing her. Expensive, worn it designer jeans hugged her long legs and a feminine blouse hung delicately from her frame. "Love the look. It's _classic_."

"Thank you," Olivia stammered.

_Am I really _freaking out _right now? _Olivia chided herself. _Don't I remember anything Kori taught me?_

She forced herself upwards and stood at full height, which put her eye-level with Massie.

Massie's grin grew wider, if possible. "Won't keep you long," she trilled, feeling all eyes on her interaction with the newbie. "But we need a new student as consult for the debut and – well, you're my pick. I expect to see you at lunch, and you better accept the job," she warned.

Massie turned on her heel and disappeared, leaving a cloud of Chanel perfume and the scent of TONI&GUY shampoo behind her.

_What just happened? _Olivia asked herself, turning in the opposite direction and pulling her phone from her bag. She fired off a text to Kori with the newest developments. _Did I just meet Massie Block? _

She chewed her lip.

_She seems... nice?_

_

* * *

_

"I'm sorry," Alicia murmured sweetly in a voice that proved she was anything but. "Now you're _friends _with New Girl?"

Massie's eyes were trained on the back of Derrick Harrington's head; he sat two rows ahead of them, flirting – well, what else would he be doing? Massie thought darkly – with the timid blonde next to him. "She's _not _my friend."

"She's _not _your friend," Alicia repeated, rolling her eyes. "What is she?"

"She's..." Massie shrugged, at a loss for words for once in her life. "She's nothing. We need one of the new kids to sign off on the debut; she's new and unlike the others she isn't brain-damaged, dangerously neglectful of personal hygiene standards, or poorly dressed. It's a no-brainer, Leesh."

Alicia wanted to punch someone – or at least throw something really, _really _hard.

"I know you don't like it," Massie whispered, suddenly noticing that the table behind theirs had gone abnormally quiet.

"No, I don't," Alicia huffed. She turned sharply on the pair sitting behind them, who were unabashedly eavesdropping on their conversation. "Do you _mind_?"

The two turned away.

Alicia made a mental note to find out their names and destroy them. Maybe that would make her feel better. "So am I announcing it?" she asked, turning back to the experiment that Massie had been masterfully handling.

"Sure," Massie sighed. "I doubt she'll say no."

* * *

"You have to say yes."

Olivia's heavy, panicked breathing echoed throughout the otherwise empty second-floor girls bathroom. A hundred Olivia's – an optical illusion created by two opposing mirrors which reflected each other infinitely – stared back at her. She fixed her eyes on her reflection and clutched her phone even tighter to her ear.

Her face was flawless – smooth, dewy, and blemish-free. Her eyes were bright and alert, and her mouth was glossy, but the slick coat of lipglass couldn't distract from the grim set of her lips.

_I am the master of my own lungs. Breathe slower, dammit!_

"You have to say yes," Kori repeated. "This is _too _perfect."

"_Too_ perfect, Kori! _Too _perfect! Something is up; they know!"

"Would you _relax_? They don't know anything – how could they? This is good news. I was their consult last year; it's not even a hard job. Which means you can impress, easily. If you impress them with your clear-headedness and your impeccable manners – which I know you possess! – then the rest is history!"

_The rest is history. _

"Okay." Olivia took one last deep breath as she said her goodbyes and promised to text Kori later.

"**Good afternoon, Werewolves! I have some breaking news for you, my beloved fans. Don't say I don't do anything for you. A consult has been chosen for next weekend's new student's debut by none other than Student Body president, Massie Block. Who is this potential consult? Olivia Ryan, a transfer from – well, it's not important. **

**Miss Ryan could not be reached for comment and is yet to accept the honour but I've been told she'll confirm or deny her involvement as consult within the hour. No pressure, but a word of the wise to the Massie Block's chosen consult: say yes. Massie Block doesn't take to rejection **_**too **_**kindly."**

* * *

Alicia paused, finger still over the recording button. She lifted it slowly and leant back in her chair, congratulating herself on a job well done.

"Just ask Derrick Harrington," she added, and laughed.

_God, _she couldn't wait to see Olivia's face.


	7. ACCEPTANCE

_First thing is first! A big, __big__ thank you to __**OregonMissy**__ who left me the most heart-warming review I think I have ever had in my life. I was meant to update another story tonight but after I saw your review I just _really_ wanted to update this one! ;)_

_There were also a few questions from __**cliquechic **__that I wanted to field before I went on, so I'm going to answer them after this chapter, because I feel like this chapter answers a lot of them. Because there are a lot of parts to this story, I feel like sometimes there are going to be questions that won't be answered until later on; I'll try and answer as many as I see fit but sometimes, I'm going to leave them and in that case, you can just assume that's something that's going to be dealt with later._

_Still, if you have any questions, just ask!_

_xxo, Cheryl_

__

* * *

  
Olivia tripped on her patent red Louboutin wedges, managing to pull herself up at the last minute by catching onto an elegantly carved granite bench. Her phone wasn't so lucky. It skittered across the floor tiles, echoing loudly in the small enclosed space, and came to a holt at the other end of the room with the screen up.

"Today is just _not_ my day," Olivia grumbled, hauling herself up to her full (and impressive) height to collect the battered technology.

**Kori,** she texted as quick as she could, **on my way to accept now.**

**go get em tiger! xoxo**

She rolled her eyes at the almost immediate response and began to survey herself in the only full-length mirror the first floor girl's bathroom provided. Olivia had chosen this location carefully, and for good reason—no one ever used this bathroom. It was secluded from the rest of the school's hot spots, located at the end of a long hallway populated by mostly guy's lockers, and only had two mirrors.

"Jesus Christ," Olivia hissed to herself. She'd left class early, feigning a headache—the sort of fraudulent behaviour she'd never actually committed before—just for this. If she was going to face Massie and take this job as consult, she would have to look absolutely _perfect_, and right now, the girl staring back at her in her reflection looked far from perfect.

_No time like the present_, she told herself, and bent at the waist to begin adjusting the bottom of her skinny jeans—why did they have to bunch around her calves so _unflatteringly?_ She didn't miss the irony in the circumstances; the _old_ Olivia Ryan, if there were such a girl, didn't even own a pair of skinny jeans, let alone spend time lamenting that they could make her thighs look so good and her calves look so fleshy.

"You okay?"

Olivia's head snapped up.

Dylan Marvil stood in the doorway, a wry smile painted across her face as she watched Olivia diligently correct her appearance. She gestured towards Olivia's brand-new-but-they-look-vintage skinnies. "I hate it when mine do that too, but I try not to blame the pants. It's not their fault they come with a design flaw."

Olivia feigned a smile and crossed to the larger mirror that hung above the bathroom counter. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted, brushing perfect, 'casual' curls that had taken an hour to manufacture back from her face. Immediately, Olivia cursed herself. _Did I just admit to _Dylan freaking Marvil_ that I'm nervous?_

"Don't worry about it," Dylan assured her, reaching into her Balenciaga and pulling out a small makeup pouch. "Mass has that effect on everyone."

"Even you?"

Dylan's bright green eyes dulled suddenly under the horrendous fluorescent lighting. "Especially me," she muttered gravely, before her Crest white smile returned full force. "But don't worry about it—she's not so bad once you get to know her."

"_If_ I get to know her."

"Oh, you'll get to know her. The question is _if_ you really want to?"

Dylan picked a light, plum-colored Yves Saint Laurent lip gloss from her bag and held it out to Olivia, her face a perfect cocktail of pity and intrigue—as if Olivia were some kid's poor quality finger painting and Dylan was trying to figure out what it wasmeant to _be_. "Here," she said, waving the gloss about. The stacks of bracelets she wore tinkled musically with her movement. "That bubblegum pink you're wearing is all wrong for you... Whoever advised that had poor taste."

Kori's face flashed in Olivia's mind, her lips slicked with the same shade of bubblegum pink—a shade of bubblegum pink that corresponded so perfectly with hair that would make Blake Lively cry and doe-like chocolate brown eyes.

It was true, she admitted to herself, taking the proffered gloss with a grateful smile. What worked for Kori wouldn't necessarily work for Olivia Ryan. As she slicked the luxurious cosmetic over her lips, cautious not to over-do it, she watched Dylan from the corner of her eye.

Dylan Marvil was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful girls Olivia had ever seen—and there was certainly no shortage of beautiful girls in Westchester, New York—but she eyed her own reflection with dissatisfaction, pulling at strands of perfectly-coiffed hair.

"Are you going to take the consult position?" Dylan asked, still staring herself down in the mirror.

Olivia replaced the cap on the lip gloss and handed it back with another meagre smile. "I think so," she replied.

"Good. There's not really anybody else. I mean, last year—"

She came to a sudden stop, lifting her skinny arm to check the time on her watch. "We should go. You have a formal announcement to make."

* * *

Alicia watched Dylan approach, with _New Girl _in tow.

_She's not even that pretty,_ she thought darkly to herself, but even in own head she could hear the falseness of that statement. Olivia Ryan was a straight-up ten—the kind of girl that belonged on the Victoria's Secret runway, instead of in a high school cafeteria—and _everyone _had noticed it by now. Heads turned to watch as the two girls approached the infamous eighteenth table, including the head of one Josh Hotz.

"_Josh_!" she hissed, kicking him under the table.

He leant to rub his shin and eyed her with unmasked disdain. "Seriously, Leesh?"

"Stop _looking_," she hissed again. Jealousy seeped through her as he turned to look once more, blatantly ignoring her wishes; worse, he seemed to like the view.

Alicia leaned towards Claire and gestured towards the scene. "Can you _believe _this? This is _embarrassing_."

"Why?" Claire asked innocently as she tied her long blonde mane into a messy topknot, preparing herself for lunch. She opened up the tiny bento box before her and sniffed delicately at the sushi selection spread out before her—her latest dieting obsession, _a la _the Hollywood trends.

"Because they're not looking at you?" Kristen added, not even looking up from the Psychology textbook she was poring over with current study buddy Chris Plovert.

Chris laughed.

_At her. _

Alicia's eyes darkened with malice. For once, she chose to shut her mouth and turned back to her phone. Her fingers—topped by blood red talons—flew across the keypad as she typed, desperate to find some dirt on the New Girl. Surely she had to know _someone _in Boston?

At the head of the table sat Massie, watching Derek from the corner of her eye as had become her habit. He sat next to Cam Fisher, chatting enthusiastically—though thankfully not about New Girl—and spinning a slightly dirty soccer ball in his hands.

"Massie?"

Massie moved slowly, gracing Dylan's guest with a speculative look. "Yes?"

Olivia stepped forward. "I've decided that I would _love _to be your consult."

"Like there was ever any doubt," Massie replied, gesturing towards the empty seat beside her. "Why don't you sit down and we'll get started? We have a _lot _to do between now and next weekend."

Olivia took the seat—at Massie's right hand side, ironically enough—and sent off another text.

**In. **

A few minutes later, a brief vibration signalled the arrival of another text. She waited for Massie to pause in the middle of her explanations and let her eyes fall to the phone sitting on her knees under the table.

**commence phase 1. counting on u. x**

****

* * *

**_QUESTION TIME!_**

_(1). Why are they ganging up on Olivia?*_

The answer to this is something I had to think about pretty hard. From the start, I knew that the Pretty Committee wouldn't welcome Olivia—they never did in Lisi Harrison's books and they certainly wouldn't in my version of events—but the psychology as to why is sometimes hard to place. My first thought is that the PC doesn't like change. They've been friends for a very long time, they've become comfortable with the dynamic, and they all have their own insecurities so welcoming someone new into the fold will inevitably change the way they interact with each other and their importance and role within the group. They reacted the same way to Claire in the original Clique book, didn't they? They made Claire's life a living hell for no reason in particular, other than that she was new and easily pushed around (or so they thought at the time...)

I then applied this to my version of their story and realised that mine went further than that. These girls would be particularly defensive after letting Kori into their group and suffering through all that drama, wouldn't they? I certainly thought so.

It's not that any of them is mean, per se—well, other than Alicia but that's sort of to be expected, isn't it?—but more a case of hazing. To my mind, they'd be putting any newcomers to the test. After all, in this chapter we see that none of them really have any anger towards Olivia, just doubts.

This story is an AU story. The characters have a lot of the same traits and appearances as Lisi Harrison's characters, but I'm placing them in a different scene and a different circumstance and experimenting with their reactions. Obviously, there are going to be a lot of things that you take from the original books and go, "that's not right!" but I ask that you please be patient. It's all going to make sense soon, I promise!

_* Sorry to say that I assumed you meant Olivia. If you actually meant Alicia then my revised answer is: I didn't know it came across that way, and I hope it didn't, but at no point did I intend for them to gang up on Alicia. If anything, Alicia is the one who would gang up on everyone else! ;)_


	8. A CHEAP IMITATION

_Usual thanks before I begin, _

_Thank you to everyone who has favourite-d this story in any way whatsoever, or added me/this story to their alert list—you guys are so astoundingly, amazingly gorgeous and I love you all for it! __Thank you to __**LivexLovexShotgun**__, again, for all your compliments and the refilling cupcake __and__ all your speculation—it was fun to read, knowing as I do how it's all going to go down. All I can tell you is that you'll have to wait and see! ;D_

_**CrystalClearxx**__, for reading all of the chapters in one go! That, in itself, is an achievement and I'm glad that you enjoyed it. When I started out, I intended for this to be a Claire story; I never, for a second, thought I'd be writing this from Olivia's point of view! But, the more I experimented, the more I realised that Olivia is just perfect for this story and I hope that you agree. Also, you're far too kind—I think calling this one of the "greatest Clique fan fictions" is a bit of a tall order, but you saying that made me so happy and brought the biggest smile to my face! _

_I've answered __**CrystalClearxx's**__ question below in __**Question Time!**__, which I think is going to become a regular thing for this book—there's a lot of elements to the story. I will not, however, give away the plot. ;) _

_When I set out to write this, I realised that posting in parts was going to be difficult for the reader—there's going to be some confusion, naturally, but more than in the usual story. But, once we start to wind it all up and get to the end, it'll all become very apparent to you and you'll understand _completely_, I promise!_

_Now, on to the story!_

_xxo, Cheryl_

__

_

* * *

_

"Cheese and crackers..."

Olivia rested her foot against the brake, bringing her father's classic Aston Martin to a gentle stop behind a sleek black Jeep with the custom license plate 'DRICK'. Her mouth dropped open as she surveyed the Block estate. The beautifully landscaped gardens surrounded her, muffling the road noise and offering a sense of total privacy, but it was the main building that had caught her attention. It rose majestically above her, casting a shadow across her car; its turrets stretched toward the hazy afternoon sun, and a weather vane shaped like a _fleur de lis_ spun lazily atop the highest one.

Olivia was hard-pressed to think of something more beautiful. Even her great aunt's Parisian townhouse—a magnificent, three-floor display of classic architecture and modern, understated elegance that overlooked the Seine and the Notre Dame—came a close second to the palatial building that rose before her.

Olivia glanced up towards the turrets again and noticed that she could see Massie illuminated in the window of one, standing before her mirror. She lifted one pair of earrings to her ears, then another, seemingly contemplating her decision with great care. A blush colored Olivia's cheeks as she considered her own ensemble: if that was what Massie was wearing, then Olivia would be horribly under-dressed in her jeans and loose fitting James Perse tank. She'd dressed for comfort... apparently that wasn't done in Westchester.

_Should I turn around? _she asked herself. _Do I have time to drive home and change?_

She glanced at the clock on the dash. Though Olivia was the second to arrive—judging by the lack of cars, at least—she couldn't risk the drive home and back, let alone the time it would take her to pick an outfit and change into it.

Instead, she rifled through her purse and pulled her makeup bag from within. The MAC lip conditioner she'd bought that afternoon after school (along with several _other _lip products in various shades of plum, nude, and red) sat at the top. She slicked a coat on her lips, fluffed her hair, and tried to tell herself that she looked effortlessly chic, like Kate Moss.

It didn't work. Her head dropped to rest on the steering wheel as she practiced some relaxing breathing exercises. _In and out, _she told herself. _Oh _God, _I can't do this! Why does Kori think I can do this?_

Someone began to rap on the driver's side window of the car, and each knock sent shock waves barrelling through Olivia's tense body. Her head jerked upwards, body shooting into an upright position, and turned towards the noise. Dylan Marvil stood on the other side of the glass, her dainty lily-white hand still extended to knock again. Derrick Harrington stood at her side, his mouth a grim line.

"Are you okay?" Dylan called, voice muffled by the tightly-wound window.

Olivia nodded and pulled the keys from the ignition. "Fine," she called back, as Dylan took a steady step back from the car. Olivia threw the door open and stepped out into the fading golden light of the gorgeous late summer afternoon. She searched for an easy lie that would explain her odd quasi-breakdown and settled on the first one that came to mind. "I'm just so beat."

"This won't take long," Dylan promised, glancing nervously at Derrick's profile, as if willing his to add something else reassuring to the conversation.

Instead, he rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Long enough," he intoned. "Hey, Liv."

Olivia watched Dylan wince at the casual use of the nickname—had she missed something? Were Derrick and Dylan...? "Hey, Derrick," she answered, and turned away from the appreciative look he was giving her. "We should head inside—it's a bit chilly out, don't you think?"

It was far from chilly and they all knew it, but neither put up a fight. Derrick led the two girls to the front door like a commander—a commander decked out in Abercrombie & Fitch cargo shorts who had terrible posture—and lent on the doorbell.

"Oh my _Gawd, _I'm _coming!_" A moment later, Alicia pulled the door open in a grand gesture, a hostile expression on her face. As she looked from Dylan to Derrick, and Derrick to Olivia, her scowl became a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, well," she sing song-ed. "Look at what we have here."

Derrick sighed, apparently displeased by the entire arrangement. Olivia couldn't help but wonder why he was there, if he was so desperately unhappy to help out with the dance. "Planning on letting us in?" he barked.

"Where's Massie?" Dylan added, bright green eyes wide as she took a cautious step away from Derrick's imposing frame.

"Relax, baby girl. The Queen Bee is upstairs, changing out of her school clothes." Alicia glanced over Derrick's shoulder. "I see you didn't want to park out back. Whatever, it's not my driveway. Go on through to Debut HQ, I'll be right in." Alicia moved aside to let them pass, but as Olivia slipped by her hand flew out. She closed it around Olivia's forearm painfully and manoeuvred her to the side, shutting the door calmly with her free hand before turning back. Olivia noted that, standing as they were, Alicia was an inch or so shorter than she was... It didn't stop her from staring down at her prey condescendingly.

"Listen, New Girl," Alicia hissed venomously, "I don't know what games you're playing but I'd advise you to stop."

Olivia's face flushed with color as she considered Alicia's words carefully. Surely she didn't mean—but how could she know? "I don't—" Olivia began, her tongue sneaking out across her slick lips in a nervous gesture.

Alicia leaned closer to Olivia's ear, her grip tightening. "I'm giving you advice against my better judgement, because, for some inexplicable reason, the others _like _you."

"Thank you," Olivia murmured back, bright blue eyes making a sweeping glance of the pristine foyer; looking anywhere but at Alicia's dark, piercing glare. "I'll keep that in mind."

Alicia released Olivia's arms, shoving her lightly as she did so. Olivia stumbled on her high heeled Burberry Prorsum ankle booties for a few steps before regaining her balance. "Just stay away from Derrick," Alicia hissed, before turning on her heel and disappearing into another room.

Olivia took a few seconds to regain her composure and control over her breathing before following her into a large, open-plan space that seemed to be a catch-all room. It buzzed with activity, much to Olivia's chagrin. Twenty or thirty teenagers milled about, each occupied with a specialised task.

"Olivia," Claire called, waving her over. "You're with me today; we're doing invitations!"

"Take your shoes off!" Massie called from the other side of the room. "Claire, if you get paint on my mother's new rug, I'm not covering for you."

"I solemnly swear to take the fall," Claire goofed, holding her hand over her heart in a show of solemnity.

Olivia slipped out of her shoes and carried them with her to the section of floor where Claire sat with three others. Only one of them was recognisable.

He noticed her staring and offered her his hand. "Cam."

"Olivia," she supplied.

"I know."

Claire watched their interaction from the corner of her eye, careful not to appear like she was eavesdropping. "So," she began, casually shutting down the conversation. The others jumped to attention, but Cam still eyed Olivia with curiosity and interest. "Who has ideas? Cam, how about you?"

* * *

"What do you think?"

Claire held up two identical pieces of elegant opalescent paper. Each had a rectangular border comprising of gold leaf, and was covered in Olivia's best and most elegant cursive. MASSIE BLOCK, they read.

_You are cordially invited to the New Students' Debut Ball to be hosted in the Ascot Hall this weekend; a glittering night to celebrate the latest additions to Westchester Academy's illustrious student body. Wear formal wear for a night of dancing, fine dining, and music. Kind considerations and best wishes,_

**THE COMMITTEE FOR THE NEW STUDENTS' DEBUT  
****headed by Massie Block, with Olivia Ryan as consult**

Claire turned to Cam. He shrugged, tilting his head to the side as if to review the work that they'd done. "Nice," he deadpanned. "Flashy."

Claire's face fell along with her eyes. She appeared almost maniacal, her hair pulled into a topknot and a streak of gold paint smeared across her cheek. "That's not what I meant," she told the week-old newspapers that covered the silken wood floorboards.

Olivia felt badly, watching the interaction between the two, and wondered briefly if Cam was so blind that he didn't notice the feelings written all over Claire's face; even now, she was looking at him like a guilty puppy with its tail between its legs.

Olivia tilted her head to one side, as if she were surveying fine art, and wondered how she was supposed to pick between two pieces of paper that were _exactly the same_—let alone pick the _right_ piece of paper. "Um... Claire? Is it, uh—that one?" she asked, gesturing to the left.

"That's the fake!" Claire sing song-ed happily, her mood immediately improved. "It's just scrunched up tinfoil painted gold, but even Alicia can't tell the difference! It's going to save us _so _much money!"

"Look for less," Dylan muttered from her spot on a red chaise lounge, catching Olivia's eye. She rolled her own upwards before turning back to the guest list that sat open in front of her. "I'm tired of doing this every year."

"You'll use the real thing," Massie called across the room, her brows knitted together as she surveyed a finalised budget. "I, for one, _hate_ imitations—I'm _not_ handing out invitations covered in tinfoil."

Olivia's eyes dropped to the floor.

The sound of Massie's heels echoed on the floorboards as she crossed the room, her hand outstretched. "Let me read the copy," she said haughtily as she clicked her fingers impatiently. Claire handed over the invitation in her right hand—the _real_version—and began to chew nervously at her fingernails as Massie's eyes scanned the words written on it.

She hummed her appreciation. "Not bad. But get rid of the word glittering—it sounds like Casino Night. I want something that hints at a night of sophistication and refinement, not craps and Elvis impersonators."

"Dazzling, shimmering, magnificent, divine," Kristen listed from the floor in front of the fireplace, taping her pen against her chin in thought.

Massie shook her head.

"Heavenly?"

Massie sighed.

Olivia eyed the fake invitation—the _loser_invitation—and ran through her mental dictionary, trying to find something suitable. "Radiant?" she suggested, turning her face upward to assess Massie's.

"Hmm."

Massie amended the invitation and looked down at it, her face fraught with concentration. Slowly but surely, it broke into a dazzling smile. "Radiant it is."

Kristen _harrumphed _but said nothing more, turning back to her note-taking.

* * *

MASSIE BLOCK,

_You are cordially invited to the New Students' Debut Ball to be hosted in the Ascot Hall this weekend; a _RADIANT_night to celebrate the latest additions to Westchester Academy's illustrious student body. Wear formal wear for a night of dancing, fine dining, and music. _

_Kind considerations and best wishes,_

**THE COMMITTEE FOR THE NEW STUDENTS' DEBUT  
****headed by Massie Block, with Olivia Ryan as consult**

Alicia eyed the invitation bitterly. Only a few stragglers and the Pretty Committee—not that they'd called themselves that in _years_, she reminded herself—still milled in Massie's living room. "Nice copy," she muttered, tossing the invitation to the side arrogantly.

"Olivia wrote it." Claire gestured towards the paper, which now rested on a rich mahogany antique writing desk. "She seems nice."

"She's perfectly adequate." Alicia shrugged. "She's just not my type."

Claire raised her eyebrows but didn't respond; she knew the look on Alicia's face all too well, and it meant that she was plotting something particularly unpleasant. _What's new girl done?_ she wondered, watching Alicia's expression carefully. Nothing came to mind—it wouldn't be the first time Alicia had tortured the innocent, and it probably wouldn't be the last—but Claire knew straight-away that she wouldn't be intervening—she'd learnt long ago to stay on Alicia's good side. _Sorry, New Girl, _said the little voice in her head. She thought of the looks that Cam had given Olivia (mostly appreciative, if she was completely honest), and frowned. _Looks like you're on your own... and you are _screwed_. _

Alicia lost plenty of battles but she never, _ever _lost the war.

* * *

**QUESTION TIME!**

_Where I answer __your__ question about the plot, the characters, the events—almost anything._

I'm not one to worry about 'pairings' but the whole Derrick/Massie/Dylan fiasco is really giving me a headache. Massie still wants Derrick, Derrick wants the new girl, and Dylan is secretly infatuated with Derrick? This is all so confusing but even though I root for Massington, I won't care about who you decide Derrick should be with.

— **CrystalClearxx **

_This is actually a really good question, and one that I can only answer by going into a total middle school explanation (not intended to offend anyone in middle school!) as follows:_

_Massie and Derrick dated in the past but, somehow—and I'm not revealing how yet, my friends!—the__ Kori__Geddman fiasco (or, Geddman-gate, as I like to think of it...) got in the way of their relationship and led to them breaking up on not-so-good terms. _

_Or, Massie got dumped by Derrick. _

_Dylan also has a secret crush on Derrick—one that Massie knows about but doesn't worry about... so long as Dylan doesn't act on it—and has had for a long, long time. _

_Derrick, however, just wants to enjoy his freedom. He just had a bad break-up, he's dealing with his issues, he's trying to get over everything that happened with Kori and have some fun in his senior year. So, as a result of all of this, he's pulling a giant John Tucker and flirting with girls left, right and__ center__—including the new girl. _

_Don't forget that the only thing separating the PC and the boys from everything that happened with Kori is a single summer—just a couple of months, really. They're all still reeling, and they're all still trying to deal with it and make it right in their mind. _

_As for what happened with Kori... well, you'll just have to wait and see. ;)_


	9. THE CRUCIBLE

First of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to **xoItGirlxo** (formerly LivexLovexShotgun) who has very graciously offered to be my beta reader for this story. She'll be coming in to help oversee the chapters before they're published, give me her input, and help catch out any little grammar errors, etc., as of next chapter. This is a new arrangement for me, as I've never really worked with a beta before, but I couldn't be more pleased and I'm excited to have a second opinion on where the story is headed. Hopefully, this will mean that the story is easier to read from an "outsiders" perspective, because someone who knows as much as any of you will be vetting the story before it's put out, and raising any issues they have so that they can, hopefully, be rectified.

Also, thanks to **CrystalClearxx**, whose reviews never fail to make me smile—I love your speculation about the story and where it's headed. You didn't really ask a question when you brought up love triangles, but I did want to discuss that so you'll find a brief discussion of that in Question Time!

Finally, thanks to **Cela Fille **who writes the funniest reviews full of run-ons—they're made of win, just like you. ;) I'm not going to rule out any pairings yet because I want it to be a surprise, so bear with me and keep an open mind; you never know what you're going to get, right?

_xxo, Cheryl_

* * *

"Time flies, people." Massie glared at those assembled before her, then turned on her heel to pace the length of the table for the fifth time that hour. "We are three days out from the debut, and I'm not seeing any progress. The decorations aren't finalised, the orchestra hasn't been confirmed, and we can't even discuss the menus without everyone going Mortal Kombat over macrobiotic meals versus Atkins-friendly. Do I have to do _everything _myself?"

The past few days had flown by and Olivia found each one less memorable and more taxing than the last. In fact, Olivia—the usually calm, sane Olivia—now existed in a state of total panic. If she didn't achieve the impossible—_impossible being, _pull this thing together in three days or less—she would never win Massie's acceptance, which meant that she would never win the group's acceptance, which meant that everything that she and Kori had planned would come crashing down around her shoulders. She felt like she'd failed already. And if—_Dear _God,_ if_—everything came together at the last minute, she'd have no choice but to consider it a great miracle, or a divine act of mercy.

**I can't do this, K!**she'd texted hurriedly from under her table in American Literature at 9:45 A.M. **This is literally impossible! **It was now 11:45 A.M. Olivia sat in the middle of the frenetic planning committee, still nervous about how much had to be done but so worn out that she couldn't even consider tackling anything substantial. The mere thought of attempting a task more strenuous than picking tablecloths was enough to give her a headache. Finally, after two hours, her phone buzzed with Kori's reply.

**dnt worry bb, u can do this!**

_That's it? _cried the voice in Olivia's head. _Those are her words of comfort? "Don't worry, you can do this"?_

As soon as the thoughts popped into Olivia's head, she banished them. Kori had been nothing but a loyal friend to her, and if Olivia looked past the atrocious text language then it was actually quite comforting—wasn't it? It was a depiction of Kori's loyalty and faith—right? She dropped the phone back into her lap and turned back to Massie's lecture, just as a giant tide of exhaustion engulfed her. She needed a latte and a twenty-minute power nap, STAT... Or a silent, white, padded room somewhere.

"Why is it-" Massie purred, walking the length of the table again.

She paused before Olivia's seat and pulling the blonde—considerably taller than her brunette companion—to her side. Olivia fidgeted, wishing she'd worn something a flashier, but she hadn't had the energy to dress up this morning and had merely pulled on a cashmere Juicy sweater dress that was a little too short for her comfort, and a little too warm for the early Autumn weather. Massie didn't seem to notice Olivia's bland attire, and waved her hand in a grand, emphatic gesture, like she was showing off some infomercial product on HSN. "-that the _only _other person who seems to care about this event is Olivia?"

"Because," Alicia purred back, her voice sweeter than honey, "_Olivia_ is the only one of us that's new?"

Olivia's felt her cheeks grow warm and diverted her eyes to the floor.

"New? That just means that _Olivia _doesn't have a _reputation _to uphold. A very strong reputation: one that she honed through years of dedication, perseverance, and hard _work._" Massie let Olivia go; the latter slinked back to her seat gratefully, eyes still trained on the linoleum floor; she could feel the angry heat of Alicia's eyes boring into the back of her head.

"If this party sucks even more than usual, then we're in for a very public embarrassment. We're talking complete and utter social suicide. I'm going to have to move to Siberia—do you want that?"

Olivia glanced at Alicia from the corner of her eye, and caught her with one of her perfectly groomed brows quirked upward. She could see the unspoken 'yes' written there. The rest of the group let out a collective grumble of denial and Massie dismissed them with one last heart-stopping glare, barking orders about "getting it done".

Olivia turned back to the book of tablecloth swatches that Massie had given her last night, stifling another yawn.

"Venti?" Layne Abeley, one of the few underclassmen on the committee, placed a comforting arm on Olivia's shoulder.

"Double shot latte," she added through another yawn. She rifled through her purse and pulled out her wallet, handing it over carefully so as not to mark the quilted leather or the white leather double-C's embossed on the front. "You're an angel."

"I'm your assistant."

Olivia's life had fallen into something like a routine. She got up, she went to school, she spent four to five hours at Massie's or Claire's—a considerably less lavish mansion a few blocks down, which was stark and white and terribly modern—every afternoon, doing work for the debut. And, after all of that, she would return home to have dinner with her mother or her increasingly absent father and make some attempt at her ever-growing back pile of homework before pouring herself into bed—usually, just in time for a full and healthy three hours of sleep. It was wreaking havoc on her skin, not to mention her nerves. If it wasn't for Layne, she'd still be swamped with the most basic of preparations. She'd take her out to a thank you dinner when all was said and done, she promised, turning back to the colourful little fabric squares that peppered the books pages.

The routine had eased the awkward I'm-new-can't-you-tell? transition and the inner torment that she'd been inflicting on herself—she should at least be grateful for that. Though it still took her an hour and a half to pick which skirt to wear most mornings, she didn't have time to ponder the really serious moral questions that kept cropping up in her head. Like:

_Should I really be helping Kori with _her _revenge? It's not _my _problem... What have these girls done, but be perfectly kind to me? Nothing, that's what, so maybe I should— no, I can't say no to Kori! She's my friend. If someone hurt your friend, you'd get back at the bitch who did it—that's what she said. And she's right. _

_Isn't she?_

The stress was enough to put an otherwise healthy, relatively sane girl off her veggie burger. She eyed it with distaste and pushed it towards Derrick; he sat across from her, wolfing down his nachos and scribbling his answers to the Physics homework they'd been given just hours before. He glanced up from his task with a grateful wink. "Thanks," he said with a full mouth.

Moments later, Layne returned with two lattes. Olivia took hers with murmured thanks and clutched it tightly in one hand. With the other, she lifted up a swatch of deep red for the others to inspect. "This is nice?"

"It's red," Alicia hissed, rolling her deep brown eyes for the audience that gathered around them; namely, the rest of the planning committee. They sat perched at a foreign table, directly to the left of the usual Table 18. They'd declined to sit in their usual spot—or Massie had, at least, and Olivia now knew that Massie's word was _law_—lest they destroy it's sanctity with impure, lowbrow creatures (Alicia's words, not Olivia's). Table 18 sat baron. Despite the overcrowded nature of the cafeteria, no one was game to test Massie's patience on a day like today by moving in on her territory.

"Yes, it's red." Cam sat to Olivia's left, sealing a stack of envelopes and sorting them into piles according to homeroom. His eyes narrowed as he looked up at Alicia with an expression of pure disgust. "What's your point, Alicia?"

Claire, seated across from Cam, started. Her eyebrows shot upward; she looked from Cam to Alicia and back again; Olivia dropped her gaze in time for Claire to spare her a look, too. Jealousy shone in her remarkable baby-blue irises.

"My point, Cameron, is that I alwayswear red—it's my _thing_—and if the tablecloths are red then I'll look like part of the scenery. I don't _blend_."

"Right, I forgot... You're so insecure that if people aren't noticing you—"

"At least I haven't faded into obscurity."

"At least I haven't screwed my way into infamy."

Dead silence had consumed the cafeteria; everyone had turned to watch the show. Cam's outburst rang throughout the cavernous room, loud and clear, followed by a few shocked gasps and a smattering of muffled male laughter.

Immediately, Alicia's eyes welled with water. Her mouth had fallen open at Cam's sharp words. She closed it gracefully, and pressed both palms against the table to help her stand slowly, her posture rigid. She turned sharply and walked in regal silence towards the cafeteria's large double doors, leaving behind her purse and the radio announcement she'd been writing about the ball.

_What... just happened? _Olivia asked herself, hand still wrapped around both red swatch and Starbucks takeaway cup.

The silence lasted another long, painful beat.

"Jesus Christ, Cam!" Josh finally hissed, throwing down the pen in his right hand. He scraped his chair backwards and the hideous sound echoed painfully throughout the room—still silent after the heated exchange that had taken place. "You said you were over that shit, man."

Cam's eyes lowered to the pile of envelopes before him, arranged in teetering piles according to homeroom and last name. "Yeah," he said, reaching out to play with one absent-minded. "I said I was but... I don't know. I guess I'm not. I... I shouldn't have..."

To Olivia's surprise, Josh didn't even seem angry anymore. He eyed his friend with concern, reaching out to pat his back. "Man, if you want to talk about it...?"

"No. No, I don't—I mean, not right now."

"You okay?"

"Yeah... Fine. I'm fine. I'll apologise later—"

Josh hesitated. "Man, you know me. I'm not gonna make you do that. Whatever's in the past, that's your business, you know? I'm not here to make judgement on it. I—I wasn't there, you know?" As soon as Cam nodded, Josh turned on his heel and left, trailing after Alicia. "Show's over, folks," he called to the cafeteria at large.

Everyone resumed talking at once, their voices rising up like a wall of noise—everyone except the occupants of Table 21, where the committee sat. Dylan and Massie exchanged looks. Massie shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"Um..." Olivia cleared her throat. A giant lump had formed there, hinting that she was about to cry; she couldn't understand why though—she wasn't the one who'd just been called a whore or something akin to that in public. Was she responsible for that? she wondered, looking at the faces now turned towards her. She'd only asked—but then, that had seemed to set them off. Everyone _knew _that red was Alicia's color and... "I'm sorry," Olivia said quickly, averting her eyes. "I didn't—if I'd realised, I never would have..."

"Sweetie," Claire lent across the table to touch Olivia's hand in a sweet gesture. "Don't you worry your pretty little head." Her voice fluctuated strangely, as she risked a sideways glance at Cam and continued her steady flow of reassurances. "It's not your fault. Not even close."

"What—no, don't tell me..." Olivia discarded of her latte. "It's none of my business. I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"Sometimes, the past doesn't stay where it belongs," Massie announced bitterly, glancing at the doors that Alicia and Josh had exited through. She stared for a moment before turning back to the people assembled before her for the last time that day. "Meeting over—and that doesn't mean you stop working. By this time tomorrow, I want a fine dining menu arranged with the caterers and I want the orchestra confirmed. Oh! and so help me _God_, Meena, I want the decorations finalised. I'm thinking white and champagne silk—and I want _soft _lighting."

Students rushed from the table in great herds, each one afraid to be around Massie when she was in such a foul mood. Olivia stood cautiously, wobbling just slightly on her Prada heels, and slung her tote over her shoulder. She was tired, she reassured herself. It was the lack of sleep that had her feeling so uncertain and cruel and awful.

_I never realised that they were real people before, _she thought, a frown creasing her elegant features together. _They get hurt, too. I never thought about that. I just thought they were robots..._

"Ryan." Massie hooked her index finger in a come-here, calling Olivia back to reality.

"Is something wrong?" Olivia asked, turning slowly.

"You look tired," Massie noted, wearing a frown of her own. She took in Olivia's hair—sleek but pin-straight as it was naturally—and her excessively casual attire, in one cold glance. "We're all tired. Have you got a dress for the ball yet?"

Olivia paused. She'd never really considered the ball coming to fruition, much less the fact that she would be in attendance. "No."

"There's something terribly wrong with that." Massie glanced around conspiratorially, taking a quick step forward to link her arm in the crook of Olivia's. "Come with me."

"Where are we going? It's lunch time..."

"We're going to get your shit, and then, we're participating in America's favorite past-time."

"Baseball?" Olivia asked, confused.

A devious smile spread across Massie's face. "_Shopping_."

* * *

**Question Time!**

_About the last chapter__:_

_I have a feeling ... that this is what I call a "starter chapter"...aka it's building up the story suspense, and this was to give us-the readers-a start on the mischief to come. Eh? Seem close?_

— **xoItGirlxo **(formerly LivexLovexShotgun)

You could definitely call it a starter chapter, although there aren't going to be any jump starts in this story. You'll notice that this chapter was a lot like a starter chapter, too: some crazy things happened that don't really have an explanation, and on the way to answering some of the questions that she has, Olivia's going to find out a lot of things she wasn't really ready to find out. The simplest way to answer this, and I wanted everyone to see this, is that there's about four more "starter" chapters standing between you and the real action. It's slow going, but once we're there we'll really be there. I know I can't wait to write it all down and I hope you can't wait to read it.

_I'm moving on from the whole Massie/Derrick/Dylan/Olivia love triangle and going on to the Claire/Cam/Olivia love triangle. Olivia is just stealing every boy's heart, isn't she? First Derrick then Josh and now Cam? Wow. It seems like Olivia is going to be bringing out the GREEN monster in the girls..._

— **CrystalClearxx**

It's funny (and also so great!) how you should mention that because that is exactly what I wanted to get across. In the Clique books, like in real life, the small group of friends that we see and come to know seems to have these incestuous—not in the gross family sense, don't worry!—relationships. They date one member of the group, then seemingly swap with another character. I don't know about you, but that happens a lot with my friends; they date in a circle, never going too far outside of their comfort zone. Obviously, on a grander scale, but... yeah. It happens. I wanted to touch on that because I feel that it needed to be commented on.

Not to mention, Olivia's new. She's gorgeous. She's mysterious. Of course the boys are a little intrigued! I'm not saying she's some perfect Mary-Sue who everybody loves—and I hope she doesn't come across that way or I'm a fail writer—but I am saying that the boys would at least be a little bit interested in some hot new babe who just suddenly _shows up _in their group of friends. Also, you'll note that Olivia and the boys actually interact very little and what they do say to each other is pretty standard stuff. That's a sneaky little joke on my part and hopefully you enjoy it, too. After all, Olivia isn't flirting with them and she sure isn't encouraging them—well, she doesn't realise she is—but the boys are reading a lot into her actions, and the girls will be jealous anyways.

And yes, I am going to let that little fact slip: there will be a catfight over a boy, and it's going to be much sooner than you think!

Please send me your questions/queries; I love to read them!


	10. LET ME ENLIGHTEN YOU

_First, let me apologise! I know that this chapter is very short, and not very informative, but it's very crucial to where the story is headed and I think that you'll see this in the chapters to come. Also, it's been such a long time between the previous chapter and this one! I know, I know. I'm actually studying for finals (which I start tomorrow and will, thankfully, finish on Friday). Not to mention that Friday is my birthday! _

_Thank you, as always, to those lovely people who reviewed. You know I love you all. Shout out to Cela Fille, who has the most adorable reviews ever and knows how to make me smile like an idiot with her kind words! Quest__ions will be answered in the bottom section, as usual. Don't be afraid to review/send me a question for question time, etc. Enjoy!_

_xoxo, Cheryl

* * *

_

Everything about The Westchester – from the sleek marble floors in the main walkways, to the polished parquet found in each of the stores, and the shimmering chandeliers that glowed above them – was a tool of class division. Whether that had been a deliberate move on the part of the designer, Olivia couldn't be sure. The wealthy strolled confidently past the glittering store fronts, designer shades perched atop their heads; their expensive shoes formed an echoing symphony of clicks and clacks against the floors. Those who couldn't afford the items proudly displayed in the store windows rushed, nervous and stressed, by their upper-market counterparts, eyes trained on the floor or on the finely-dressed mannequins with unmasked envy.

Massie and Olivia wandered aimlessly through The Westchester's largest and grandest department store. The silence was unbearable. Olivia inspected the latest in fashion, nervously, and wondered if she should say something. But, if she were to do something, what would be the most appropriate thing to say?

Massie seemed far too focused on her iced soy latte.

"That's pretty," Olivia said instinctively. She zipped towards a rack of gorgeous, delicate lingerie and picked up the underwear in question to inspect it more carefully.

Massie smirked. "You like _those_?"

Olivia hesitated, her grip on the thin strips of lace growing loose. "Well, I – Oh... You don't?"

Massie's smirk diminished slightly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Massie insisted. "It's just that – " Massie grinned charmingly. "I have the same ones. The girls always make fun of me for having them. They call them my 'Virgin Suicides' panties – because of the floral pattern."

Olivia grimaced.

"It's silly, really." Massie pinched her straw with two hands and lowered her lips to it to take a deep pull. "The things people say. They'll make fun of you for the tiniest little thing, if they feel threatened or _intimidated_by you. They'll punish you for their weakness... Isn't it amazing to think about high school segregation? How power is distributed amongst high school students who don't know any better?"

Olivia's hand tightened into a fist around the lacy La Perla underwear she held. She trained her eyes on the intricate daisy-chain detailing. "I guess. I've never really thought about it," she answered gingerly. "Is power really _that _important to people in high school?"

"Power is important to _everyone_." Massie smirked in a self-satisfied way and took a few confident strides towards Olivia. She picked up an Agent Provocateur bralet, and feigned interest in it for a few short, deathly silent moments. Satisfied that the pause had been sufficient, she draped the bralet back over the rack. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately," she said, and glanced at Olivia from beneath her dramatically wind-swept bangs, her dark eyes searing in their seriousness. "I suppose that that's to be expected... Recent events considered."

Olivia made a noise somewhere between a hum of recognition and a nervous whimper. Was Massie probing her? Testing her? Waiting to see her trip and fall? _Does she know? _Olivia thought, panicked. She took a few deep, calming breaths and blinked her icy blue eyes, feigning innocence. "I'm done here," she said, and dropped the underwear back onto a pile of expensive silk and cottons.

"Aren't you going to buy that?" Massie said. She glanced at the lingerie. "It's pretty."

Olivia demurred. "No," she said, "it's absolutely lovely but it just isn't my style."

Massie shrugged her shoulders and polished off the last of her latte. "If you don't love it on the rack, you won't love it on you." A passing assistant offered to take Massie's empty cup and dispose of it. "Thanks," she said, and handed it over, before taking Olivia by the crook of her arm and leading her with light pressure toward the nearest exit.

Olivia ignored the vibrations of her phone. It quivered somewhere deep inside her purse five times before returning to its silence. Olivia wanted, more than anything, to reach for it. Massie's kindness was unnerving – a reminder to Olivia of all everything she was about to do.

"I need to go to Sephora," Massie said airily. She navigated Olivia through the crushing crowds, tandem-style, with the grace and ease of an expert. "Skye Hamilton just got this new shade of YSL lipstick, and I need to show her that it would look so much better on me. Everything does."

Olivia laughed nervously, and dodged a pair of excited pre-teens, whose faces fell at the sight of Massie and her new companion. She smiled tentatively at them, but received no greeting in return. "Skye Hamilton?"

Massie eyed Olivia with quiet speculation, and then began her tirade. "She's a bitch," she said simply. Then, at the slightest quirk of Olivia's eyebrow, she added: "She's the Queen Bee of Clover & Walsh. Oh, you know; that arty new school across town?"

"Oh," Olivia chirped, looking away.

Massie's critical assessment of Skye Hamilton and her insecurity issues continued, and didn't end until they were exiting the Sephora store, still arm in arm. "It's sad, really," Massie said loftily, as she swung a large glossy bag from her free hand. "She's so obsessive, and jealous of me."

_Sounds like _someone's _insecure, _Olivia thought, _but it's not Skye..._

"In here."

Massie pulled Olivia into a small, chic store. A remix of Piaf songs washed over them both, and Olivia took a moment to delight in the sweet, honey melodies that poured over her. Massie watched Olivia's face, delighted by the eagerness she saw there. "I knew you'd love it," she said, and crossed to a rack of cocktail dresses. "It's _so _you. Your mother is French, isn't she?"

Olivia nodded. _"Oui_."

They riffled through the racks, neither one in any great hurry. A half an hour passed without any great ado, before Massie held up a sleek, silken cocktail gown. "This one," she said, her arm outstretched and offering it to Olivia.

Olivia couldn't help but gasp. "It's beauitful!" she cried, and it was.

"Josh Goot." The fabric shimmered under the light as Massie breathed out her admiration. "Try it on."

Olivia took the dress without complaint, and swanned to the dressing room, eager to try on the dainty, colorful silk creation. She'd just begun to lift her sweater dress over her head, when her phone began to vibrate energetically.

"Not now," she hissed under her breath, stooping to rifle through her purse. She found her phone somewhere near the bottom and pulled it out.

The words **?** **are you **were emblazoned across the screen in a tiny, angry accusation.

**Shopping, **she replied, **with the Queen Bee herself. Why?**

**shopping? you're not ready to go shopping w. m herself! abort mission!**

Olivia threw the phone into her bag, disgusted, and ripped her sweater dress over her head in one angry motion. Why did Kori have so little faith in her, and her ability to pull this off? Olivia had, initially, been skeptical, but after spending an entire week side-by-side with the evil Massie Block and other girls of her ilk, Olivia felt confident in her ability to talk the talk and walk the walk of the young, the beautiful, and the devilish. Olivia was perfectly capable of completing a covert operation; one that was a great success.

"So," Massie called. She had taken up residence outside of the dressing rooms, waiting for Olivia to emerge in what was sure to be _the _dress. "Tell me what you know about last year."

The air rushed from Olivia's lungs. The self-righteous pride she'd felt moments before evaporated. "Pardon?" she choked out.

"You heard me," Massie said sweetly. "What do you know?"

"I don't know anything," Olivia insisted. She shimmied into the dress, and paused for a moment. Could she face Massie? Or was it better for her to wait here, until she was sure that she wouldn't slip up and give the game away. Finally, after a few torturous moments of silence, she pushed the curtain to the side and stepped out.

"You don't know anything."

Olivia didn't take her eyes off of her reflection. It wasn't vanity that had her afflicted, but fear. Massie appeared over her shoulder, and piled Olivia's platinum hair into a loose bun at the nape of the neck, which she held in place with her left hand. With her right, she separated tendrils of hair, which fell about Olivia's face in a way that was both messy and charming. "You know nothing about last year?" Massie clarified.

"Nothing."

"Well." Massie dropped Olivia's hair and took a purposeful step backwards. Her voice dropped to an ominous whisper. "Let me enlighten you," she said.

* * *

**QUESTION TIME!  
**Where I answer your questions about Little Blue Book.

_Question: Why is Claire not showing her feelings? Well, um, what I mean is...everyone must know by now that Claire likelikes Cam and Cam seems to, uhh...what's the right term? Oh! Yeah, yeah! Cam seems to "dig" Olivia. But suddenly Claire looks like she was jealous just when Alicia&Cam were arguing. I mean, common! She's starting to sound obsessed with Cam (no offence). If she likes him then she should just tell him. Hasn't she been in blockbuster movies before or something? Shouldn't that make her just a teeny-bit more confident? I really want to hear more about Claire and see if she's ever going to just let it all OUT.  
- _CrystalClearxx

You know I love your questions, and this is why! I can't answer this too much, without giving a lot of stuff away, BUT what I can say is that,

(1) Claire likelikes Cam and Cam seems to dig Olivia - this is true.  
(2) Something that has happened in the past - maybe a dirty little secret - has made Claire antsy and jealous about the fact that Cam and Alicia are arguing.  
(3) I won't rule out that Claire is obsessed with Cam. She kind of is. But not as obsessed as Dylan is with Derrick...  
(4) Claire has been in a lot of blockbuster movies, but again, SOMETHING in that past makes her nervous about approaching Cam.  
(5) Claire might let her feelings out sooner than you think.

Did I give away too much? I hope not!

_So what is up with the Alicia deal? Are the rest of the girls mad or resentful towards her or Olivia? Was a little confused about that...  
- _midnightsun21

Ah, the Alicia deal. I like this term. My answer to this is in parts again - because I am in a rush to publish this, but also because it's easier that way!

(1) Alicia has always come across as a bitch to me, so that's just one part of it.

(2) But, again, there is something in Alicia's past that hasn't been revealed yet, which is causing her to lash out at newcomers and those who she considers 'inferior' or 'threatening' - regardless of whether they truly are either...  
(3) The girls (and some of the guys) may or may not be more than a little resentful and angry towards Alicia, because of these past events.  
(4) Finally, Alicia feels threatened by Olivia and she isn't afraid to try and tear her down a notch or two.

_I think that if the characters were more multidimensional and if there was a hidden message/parody in the story (lk in all The Clique books) it would certainly improve.  
- _HawtCouture

So, not a question but I did want to address this review because I thought it was a really good critique. I agree with you one hundred percent. The dimensionality of the characters will (hopefully - fingers crossed, etc. etc.) develop as the story really gets going, because even though it's a fair few chapters in we're still sort of working up to where the story is going. The hidden message... Well, I'm a sucker for a hidden message and I would love to be able to work one in, but to me, I don't see an in for that... yet. You never know! And, as far as parodies go... I'd love to be smart enough to write good parodies, but I'm not, and I'd rather not write a parody at all than write one that's awful! There will be little, small aspects of teen culture that will be mercilessly mocked, though, so look out for that!


	11. ZENITH

_To begin with, I apologise for the delay between chapters. For those who are worried that this delay is linked to me beginning 'Aphrodite', I assure you that that's not the case. Not only have I been busy, but this has been a surprisingly difficult chapter to write. I admit that it is majority dialogue, and even then that it's not very long, but you'll be happy to note that you'll finally get **some**answers about the twists and turns of the LBB Universe. ;) Where will Olivia and the PC go from here? Well now, only time will tell. _

_Thanks to all who reviewed, and all who've stuck with the story despite my business and lack of updates during the past few weeks. After all that's happened, you have no idea how much your loyalty to the concept inspires me, and how happy it makes me. It means so much that this silly little idea that popped into my head is appreciated by anyone other than myself. You don't even understand how much it means to me that people are willing and ready to read what I've written. _3

_As usual, questions are welcome and encouraged. A few Q&A's can be found below in Question Time!. _

_xoxo, Cheryl_

_PS. Massie is slowly becoming my favorite character to write for. I'd love to hear who your favorite character is, so far, and if you think they're much like their 'Clique' counter-parts. :)_

* * *

"Last year was the worst year of my life," Massie said plainly, her hands forming a death grip around Olivia's forearm. She led Olivia – now back in her sweater dress, a opalescent white bag with _Envision _emblazoned on its side in glossy black cursive – through the crush of lunchtime shoppers with the ease and finesse of a seasoned shopper. Her stride never broke, and her expression of mild derision never faltering.

Olivia cleared her throat; it had become arid in the past few moments. Massie's words hung in their wake, falling behind them as they strode quickly past brightly-lit shop windows. Mannequins posed, faceless and garish, in the latest fashions. In her current mood, Olivia found them nightmarish. "Maybe over coffee - ?" she suggested.

Massie nodded, altering her course slightly and leading her charge towards the nearest Starbucks. She did so in ominous silence, and it hung over them, cloyingly, even as they ordered their coffees and collected them from the barista. "It started out like any other," she began, taking her macchiato in one hand and then leading the way to a secluded, quiet table. "I came back from a summer abroad, refreshed, ready to take on another year at W.A. with a new wardrobe and old, trusted friends." A single eyebrow - neatly and painstakingly filled in with an Anastasia eyebrow stencil earlier that morning - lifted upwards; a testament to Massie's dry sense of humour.

Olivia took a sip of her cappuccino, uncertain as to where the conversation was headed. "I see," she prompted.

"Have you ever been popular, Olivia?"

Olivia's mouth fell open. She stuttered briefly, apprehensive. Finally, she admitted the truth. "No, I haven't," she sighed, and brushed a lock of platinum blonde hair from her face, eyes cast downwards.

"I can tell you haven't," Massie reassured her. "The sense of entitlement that comes with popularity is enduring. So is the constant and fearsome desperation to be the sparkling jewel in the crown. For example," Massie announced, her amber eyes fixing on Olivia's face in cold appraisal, "a girl who had been popular at her previous school wouldn't be intimidated by me. A girl who had experience being the zenith of her social set would see me as an equal - or, more often than not, as her competition."

Olivia kept her eyes down.

"You see me as neither. Therefore, I knew that you could be trusted... even if others have their doubts..."

"Alicia?"

Massie nodded, huffing, "I keep telling her that her paranoia isn't cute. She won't listen."

Olivia agreed wholeheartedly; Alicia's paranoia was terrifying.

Massie took a deep breath and another substantial sip of her coffee. "But first. You know that the New Student's Debut was put forward to Student Council by its President of the time, Maggie May Adams, in the year Nineteen-sixty-four?" Massie waited for Olivia's nod before continuing. "It's a fine tradition, but not for the reasons you presume. The Debut has one purpose and one purpose only – ascertaining and isolating the perceived competition of Westchester Academy's social elite."

Olivia was only slightly shocked by this revelation. "You keep your friends close and your enemies closer," she quoted.

Massie nodded. "Precisely... Once the 'target' is isolated, they're tested. I'm sure you realise that the position of consult is merely an audition. If the selected student is found wanting, they're tossed back into the lukewarm waters of obscurity. On the other hand, successful consults become a member of the elite. From that moment on, precedent dictates that they be monitored carefully for any attempts at – "

"Further social climbing?"

"It's like jumping the queue."

"Provided you don't try to jump too far..."

"You learn quickly." Massie grinned, but it was a calculated grin that didn't reach those infamous bright eyes. "Last year, we picked our consult almost immediately. She was a transfer from a New York Ivy; she met all of the criteria. She was attractive, intelligent, fabulously wealthy and obviously quite cunning. Kori Geddman..." Massie hesitated. "She passed her audition with flying colors and settled into the inner circle. She became – well, I'm ashamed to say that she became a friend to me."

"What happened?" Olivia asked, realising that she had leant forward unconsciously. She re-positioned herself and tried to slow her breathing, uncertain as to why she was so enthralled and so incredibly nervous... Massie's narrative would finally shed some light on all that had happened last year.

Massie sighed. "Let me put this as delicately as I can... Kori was fucking _insane._ She became obsessed with each of us; eventually, she began to document our lives in a little blue book. Kept records of things that could destroy lives; not just our lives, but the lives of innocent parties; the lives of our families and our friends."

"You're kidding." Olivia said flatly, her mind suddenly filled with static.

"I don't really 'kid'," Massie sighed, "certainly not about my reputation. Alicia was Kori's first target... Maybe because Kori considered Alicia her biggest threat...?"

"What did she do?"

"Alicia has some _indiscretions _in her past; I'm the first to admit that. To tell you honestly: Alicia slept with Derrick – before Derrick and I began to date – and Cam... while he and Claire were together..."

Olivia frowned. _What a slut, _she hissed internally. _What a bad friend._

"We've come to terms with what happened," Massie said calmly, as if she had read Olivia's thoughts. "But Kori had – well, don't ask me _how_, but Kori had photos. She paid someone from the I.T. Club to hack the school website and posted them on the front page, then set him up to take the blame. He was expelled. Alicia narrowly avoided expulsion herself – thanks to her parents' generous donations."

"Oh my God," Olivia moaned, trying to reconcile the scheming Massie outlined with the caring friend that she knew Kori to be. The two halves didn't seem to correspond. "Are you sure?"

"We found the book. It's been confiscated since – we don't seem to know who has it – but... yeah, I'm sure. Kori was exiled and we moved on with our lives. Kori was a mistake; a learning curve. I've since realised that I need to surround myself with people I can trust; people I don't need to worry about. That's you, Olivia. I just want you to know that whatever happens with the Debut... I'm batting in your corner."

Olivia swallowed down the dregs of her macchiato. She felt like she was drowning; staggering under the weight of these new revelations. "Thanks," she told Massie meekly. _But don't put your faith in me _too _soon. _

_

* * *

_

_I hope Massie tells Olivia what happened last year, because, I am a bit confused...  
_- **Spy in Disguise**

While I admit that Massie didn't supply a wealth of information, I help it cleared up some of the confusion, and if you have any more questions I'll answer all that I can. The important thing about Little Blue Book is that I don't want to reveal too much at one time. I want it to be fun, dangerous, exciting, and even confusing from the word 'go'. :)

_(1) i was confused when Cam&Alicia were fighting. when alicia walked out of the room, why did Josh follow her? i mean in first beginning chapters, it seemed like they were fighting or something. idk...  
(2) __why did they make two invitations, one fake and one real?  
(3) __i'm wondering how kristen will play into this because she seems to be rarely mentioned and what about kemp and plovert also? :)  
(4) __massie seems to be really mean, wondering why?  
_- **dearXdarling**

(1) Now you sort of have an idea why Cam and Claire are fighting, I think. While Cam and Claire were dating, Alicia slept with Cam. Cam's still pretty angry about the whole situation, which is why he talked about Alicia sleeping her way into infamy. Josh then followed Alicia out of the room because the two of them are "together". I intend to get into the Alicia/Josh relationship in better detail in following chapters, but I wanted to depict that sort of love/hate relationship; he hates her because of what she's done, but he loves her because underneath it all, she's still Alicia.

(2) They made a practice invitation out of tinfoil spray-painted gold, but Massie refused to use something that was a cheap dupe and insisted they use real gold leaf. I wanted to demonstrate that Massie is a perfectionist to a fault, and that she's very aware of the image that her actions present to the people around her. Something as simple as using fake gold leaf could influence the fickle people around her, and make her look bad.

(3) Kristen has been rarely mentioned, but that's for a reason I assure you. ;) There's method in my madness! She'll come into play a little bit later, and Kemp and Plovert will certainly become a part of the plot - I can't wait for you to see how! I think you'll be excited to see what happens with some of the characters that, until now, have seemed like secondary players. :D

(4) I think in this chapter we see more that Massie isn't _mean_, so much as that she feels responsible for the rest of the group. She bears the brunt of what happened with Kori - the full scope of which you will soon come to understand. So, here, we see that Massie is actually kind of sweet in her own little way, but she doesn't know how to step out of the elitist, supremacist role that she's been forced into as Alpha of an elite social group within an exclusive, high society school. :)

I won't tell you anything about pairings thought! Shhh, it's a secret! ;)


	12. NOTICE

So…been a while, huh?  
This story is being reworked on my new account, Lollywater.  
It's been refocused, with Claire as the new main character.  
The plot has also been tweaked slightly.  
Thank you for all of your reviews.

They meant more to me than you'll ever know.


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